


it started like this

by jilliancares



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Time, Fluffy Smut, Grinding, M/M, Smut, hello this is how i cope with my feelings now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares
Summary: Keith and Lance have been dating for two weeks and then, well,thishappens.





	it started like this

**Author's Note:**

> but jillian, you say. i don't understand. didn't you... didn't you just post a depressing post-s8 fic like 5 hours ago???
> 
> yes. yes i did. and then i took a three hour nap and woke up and was STILL sad so i scrolled through my klance tag and on page 102 i came across this art (http://jilliancares.tumblr.com/post/161069959007/shckms-first-time) and i was Inspired and you know what i wanted this fluff in my life SO here we are

They’d been dating for two weeks, in a happy, accidental sort of way.

It started like this:

“Fuck, Shiro — the ceiling’s crumbling. I don’t think we’re going to make it.” It was Lance who said it, still holding tightly to Keith’s hand — his fingers somehow warm, through both of their sets of gloves — while eyeing the ceiling above them. Large cracks adorned it, branching off in every direction, and dust and pebbles were continually raining down on them, making a trickling sound as they struck their helmets.

“ _Just keep it up_ ,” Shiro encouraged them over the comms, the desperation in his voice just barely bleeding through. “ _Come on, you’re almost there_!”

It was funny. Lance had groaned about drawing the short straw, quipping something about the fact that he’d have to do the underground portion of the mission with Keith, who’d sent a scathing comment back Lance’s way — it was just the way they operated, really — but really, Keith would rather be in a crumbling cave with Lance than anyone else. He knew he was fighting in an intergalactic space war, knew he faced new and horrifying evils every day, and he thought having Lance’s face be the last thing he ever saw might not be the worst thing in the world.

The two of them pick up the pace, somehow, their legs dying underneath them. Keith’s legs had stopped protesting, stopped burning, a while ago. He couldn’t even feel them anymore, and he knew if he thought about it too much, he’d trip and go flying over himself.

It was just as they were reaching what Keith surely thought must be the end that they came across a huge wall of rock. A wall that hadn’t been there before.

Keith realized what had happened immediately. The ceiling had already collapsed here, caging them in, and the rest of the cave was shaking and coming apart all around them. They wouldn’t last long.

The look of horror Lance sent him crushed the grudging sense of acceptance that had been washing over Keith. He tried to escape with a newfound determination, letting go of Lance’s hand so that he could pull at the wall, at the chunks of rock and sizeable boulders that he knew he’d never be able to move, that he knew only had more of the same behind them.

Lance gasped as a crack rent the air and more rock crashed to the ground at his feet, nearly crushing him underneath it. _That’s_  when Keith gave up. He just marched over to Lance, shoved him into the corner, and clambered onto his lap. Lance didn’t even question it, didn’t protest. He just hugged Keith to him, jerking every time the rumbling got louder, every time more rock joined them on the floor, seemingly closer and closer to their corner all the while.

They’d been in contact with Shiro, with Coran and Allura and the rest of the team, but nobody knew what to do. They were yelling over the comms, trying to figure out a solution, but it was all up to them at this point. Keith muted his, his head hurting. He didn’t want their frantic voices to be the last thing he ever heard.

Keith pressed a button on his helmet, then, making his visor disintegrate.

“Keith — the dust,” Lance protested idly. “You’ll breathe it in.”

“I don’t care,” Keith said, before reaching out and pressing the same button on Lance’s helmet, who blinked in confusion. The ground shook violently underneath them, making them both flinch, which was when Keith leaned in even closer. “Lance…” he whispered. “I’m… Just once, I want to be able to…”

Lance didn’t seem to understand, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, and Keith couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t die without knowing what Lance’s lips tasted like. So he leaned in and kissed him, held him close, let his fingers dig into his shoulders as Lance’s lips parted underneath his. And then he pulled back, readjusting their visors, and buried his face into the crook of Lance’s neck, vaguely embarrassed and terrified for their lives but mostly satisfied. A little thrilled.

Everything got louder, and Keith realized he could hear his friends yelling. Not from his helmet, which was still muted, but from outside — and then everything when dark. When he regained consciousness, it was in the form of stumbling out of a pod, directly into someone’s waiting arms.

“Ungh?” he’d managed.

“You’re okay,” said Lance’s familiar voice, and that’s when it all came rushing back to him, his kiss suddenly and completely mortifying. He stiffened in Lance’s arm, every ounce of his existence infused with panic, but Lance just hugged him a little tighter.

“Don’t freak out on me now,” he scoffed. “I was hoping you’d kiss me again, Mullet.”

And Keith was still tensed up, still kind of waiting for the hammer to drop, but now a bubble of hope squeezed its way into his chest. “Wait, what? Really?” he managed, before Lance finally pulled away enough for Keith to see him rolling his eyes.

“Yes, really,” he said, exasperated.

So, yeah. A happy accident.

Ever since, they’d had a whole lot of firsts. The first time they kissed (again), this time with Lance initiating it. The first time they made out, and the first time Lance kissed his neck long enough to leave an embarrassing mark, the bastard.

The first time they had a sleepover — mainly by accident, but whatever. Keith was counting it.

And the first time they, did… well, _this_.

“Keith,” Lance panted, his voice high and breathy in his ear. He hardly knew what was going on. Five minutes ago they’d just been sitting in Keith’s bed, idly kissing, but now they were horizontal (a first), and Lance was on top of Keith, lying in between his legs, and his tongue was doing something phenomenal, and _God_ , his hips—

Keith dislodged his mouth from Lance’s with a gasp, tucking his cheek next to his as he struggled to breathe. Fuck, everything they were doing felt so _right_. He grinded his hips up into Lance, hugging him closer, holding him tighter, moving against him faster… His eyes were squeezed closed, his lungs desperate to get enough air, and he could hear each and every one of Lance’s noises in his ear — his pants, his grunts, that little hitch in his breath every now and again.

Holy shit, was Keith going to come like this? That was embarrassing, right?

“H-hey,” Lance said suddenly, his hips slowing down a fraction against Keith’s, who stuttered to a stop as well, mainly out of embarrassment. Oh no, did he want to stop? Did he think this was weird? Or too soon? Fuck. “Can we — we don’t have to, but can we… can I…?” He was stuttering over his words so much, but eventually his hands found their way down to Keith’s waistband, and Lance’s attempted question plus the press of his fingers against Keith’s hipbone was good enough for him.

“Yeah,” Keith said hurriedly, nodding against the pillow, and Lance’s hands dipped under his sweatpants and underwear in one, his warm, smooth palms momentarily pressing entirely against the outside of Keith’s thighs, and then he was shucking them off. Keith lifted his butt to make the process easier, kicking them down the rest of the way when he could, and then Lance sat up enough to get his own pants off as well.

He ended up right back on top of Keith, then, and holy _shit_  who would’ve thought this could feel even better? But it did, God it did, with Lance’s warm skin touching his, their legs tangled together, Keith’s cock sliding past Lance’s and making his breath catch in his throat.

“Fuck,” he finally managed to say, pressing his forehead against Lance’s shoulder. “H-how does this feel so good?”

“Right?” Lance panted, incredulous. “Way better than lefty over here,” he added, before raising his left hand and wiggling his fingers in the air. Keith snorted in amusement, and then he choked, because when Lance put his hand back down, it didn’t land on the bed. He wormed it between their squirming bodies before rolling them onto their sides, their heads bent towards each other, and gripped the both of them in his hand. He started stroking, then, fast and hot and smooth and Keith honestly, truly couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck, Lance,” he said, his fingers reaching out and scrabbling against Lance’s shirt. Why were they still wearing those, again?

Everything built between them, the heat and the pressure and the sound of their breathing. Keith caught Lance looking at him, and he flushed, but then again, he was looking at Lance too. And then they held eye contact like that, eyes flicking to mouths, to the pulses pounding visibly in their necks, to Lance’s hand moving between them.

Keith didn’t manage to warn Lance before he came. It kind of snuck up on him, surprising him and making his words lodge in his throat. He managed a, “ _Lance_ ,” followed by a horribly embarrassing keening sound, but Lance seemed to get the message. He sped up a little bit more, not even hesitating when Keith came, shaking, panting, and finished himself off as well.

There was a mess between them, and neither of them could breathe properly, but Keith felt giddy with excitement. And… sticky.

“You got tissues?” Lance managed after a moment, and Keith laughed, rolling over carefully to grab them from his drawer. The both of them cleaned up as best as they could without actually getting up to shower, and then they scooted closer again, after finding their boxers and putting them back on. Keith still felt warm all over, and sticky with sweat, but it was good.

God, everything with Lance was good.


End file.
